


The Last Spoiler

by daxcat79



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Drama, F/M, Family Secrets, Gen, Original Character(s), Spoilers, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 07:26:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daxcat79/pseuds/daxcat79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a new mystery to solve after his latest adventure, but what brings the Doctor back to Trenzalore?  River Song has one last spoiler left for the Doctor....</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Spoiler

**Author's Note:**

> This would basically be my dream come true for the beginning of Eleven's last story on Christmas Day.

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own any of the characters or story, I’m just borrowing for my own entertainment.

There was an eerie stillness in the Library, interrupted by the echo of boots making contact with marble floors... strangely comforting to someone as daring as John. They were watching, his every move, waiting in their forests. Who would dare enter their hunting ground? Who would dare step foot in the Library after all these years? His eyes remained focused on the blue book hidden among the piles of fiction and biographies... ironic considering the secrets waiting inside.

Willard followed closely behind, sweat collecting at his temple the longer they remained in a place of such potential peril. He watched nervously as John reached for the old book, but picked up the device left on top instead. "Now that is a beauty," John whispered to himself, flipping the switch that turned it on to bask in the piercing sound of sonic.

"What? A sonic screwdriver? You chance being devoured by Vashta Nerada for an ancient, beat up screwdriver?! You planning on building yourself a bookshelf?" muttered Willard Trask in disgust. He wasn’t even sure what they were doing here. It was his duty to protect the family, accompany anyone who dared enter the Library, though he couldn’t quite understand why his Grandfather would allow such a thing. John may not have had any interest in Cal, but to tolerate such an intrusion went against everything Willard had been taught to hold dear… the respect for family, did that mean nothing all these years later?

John glanced back at Willard with what could only be described as pity. "Scientific device more powerful than any weapon mere man might conceive of."

Willard rolled his eyes, dramatic as ever, and grabbed the blue book. "What's this then?"

His eyes remained on the screwdriver, looking at old readings and smiling in delight. "The greatest love story ever told."

"I highly doubt it's Shakespeare, John."

He shook his head with a long sigh, as if just barely containing his patience with Willard’s indifference. "Only Juliet drinks the poison in that version. Romeo just goes off to do what he does best...."

When John didn't complete his thought, Willard huffed petulantly. "Which is?"

Finally, the man pulled his gaze from the precious screwdriver, but his eyes were darker (perhaps a trick of the shadows). A mixture of disappointment and pain swirled in his irises like a deadly hurricane. "Run away."

*~*~*

Clara had always wondered about the Doctor, what he'd been like with family to call his own. Those eyes were always so lonely... even with her by his side. Now that there was the chance to find his world, she wondered what he’d left behind there. The Doctor didn’t often talk about his children. There were mentions of them, brief and scrambled, in a mess of incomprehensible stories. With the chance of seeing them again she’d noticed he spoke of them more. The shadows were lifting, but the loneliness remained constant even now.

"That is strange... terribly strange."

"What is it, Doctor?"

She expected glee and excitement when she turned to see her Doctor's face, probably already planning the trouble ahead of them; instead, they were cold... distant. He looked like all the blood had drained from his face. He slipped around the console of the Tardis pressing buttons and pulling levers she hadn’t even had the chance to identify just yet. "Oh dear...."

"Doctor? What's happened?" His eyes were focused on the viewscreen, glued to it. She couldn't see the display, and she was starting to worry. One minute they'd been trying to decide between visiting the great waterfalls of Altravarian III or hiking the desert mountains of Altravarian V, and then... it was as if everything had been forgotten. One flashing light on his console and it was as if the end of time were upon them. Well, that could happen. She ought to ask if he wasn’t more forthcoming soon. "What is it?"

"A signal... the Tardis is picking up a signal. Impossible! No one should even be there! This can't be right."

"A signal... from where? From who?"

The Doctor's eyes widened, hands gripping the display, rubbing together as if for warmth, dropping to the console underneath and gripping it hard. He couldn't keep his hands still. That was never a good sign. "It's coming from the Library."

"A library?"

"THE Library... abandoned ages ago; too dangerous now with the Vashta Nerada waiting in the shadows. Nothing’s left, just books and shadows." His eyes drifted away for a moment. “And data ghosts….”

She didn’t like the sound of that, but it was the look on his face that worried her most. Whatever the Doctor’s Tardis was picking up on had to be important. "Are we going there? Will you follow the signal to its source?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

The Doctor shook his head. "Too dangerous, I told you."

Clara's eyes narrowed, arms folded stubbornly. "When has that ever stopped you before?"

He shook his head, refusing to meet her gaze. He slammed the console to make the alarm shut off, and silence filled the Tardis. "No, not this time. That Library already took something precious from me... I won't go back."

“Doctor-"

"I said no!" he snapped, uncharacteristically. There was so much venom in his voice. Clara took a step back, stunned. She’d never seen him like this before… not even when talking about Gallifrey during the days he’d thought it burned. He deflated, having noticed the harshness of his tone, eyes apologetic. She took her opportunity to prod while his guilt ate at him.

"What could possibly be so horrible about a library? Tell me... please?"

His face fell, miserable... like she'd never seen before except those times he spoke of home. "River, you remember my wife... that's where she died, saving me. The Library is her final resting place, and I can’t go back there. I can’t."

*~*~*

"Is this sensible?"

John's frown deepened. "I certainly hope not! What are you afraid of, Willard? The shadows... or coming face to face with the Doctor, himself?

Willard stiffened indignantly. "I doubt he'd appreciate you snatching his things," he finally muttered as John pocketed the sonic screwdriver, and snatched the book from Willard's hands (ever so rudely).

"They aren't his things, Willard. They belong to Professor River Song."

"Even better... we're stealing from the dead!" groaned Willard.

John's hands touched the book like it was priceless, an artifact lost in time. His eyes softened as they looked upon it, lips curled in a secret smile. He flipped through the pages gently, searching for something, though God only knew what for. Willard was certain he'd never seen the man quite so intense. It made him uncomfortable. There was still so little he knew about John, other than the fact that his Grandfather felt obligations to the man. Why else would he allow anyone to venture back into the Library? John paused at a drawing in the very back of the book. The sketch was of a small child, a boy with dark curls and the saddest smile. "I wish I'd known her better young... but at least she knew the man I would become."

Willard frowned, noticing scribble underneath the sketch, just a brief paragraph… her last words in the diary of River Song. "Who is that boy? The one in the picture?"

"A young boy from Professor Song's past. She lived a complicated life, Willard… always so filled with secrets and spoilers. Her days either in prison or on excavations, and so many nights spent with the Doctor. In stories they always assumed she chose Archeology because of him, the Doctor. They were wrong; you see... he was only part of the puzzle. She was working on something so much bigger. Something that would change the universe as we know it."

"Trying to find that young boy?" Willard questioned curiously, taking a second look at the sketch.

John laughed. "Dear me, no!" For a moment he stood in silence... contemplating something before he snapped the book shut. He turned to face Willard, finally holding the other man’s gaze. Willard was certain he much preferred the attention of the shadows. "If you loved someone, and I mean truly loved them... you'd do anything to see them cared for properly, yes?"

"Of course!" answered Willard.

"What if that meant sending them away, far away? What if you were dangerous, or the company you keep, equally so?"

"I'd do what I had to do for the good of the person," said Willard.

John nodded, eyes returning to the book in his hand. "But when it's someone precious to you... do you ever truly let go? Do you ever really stop holding on?"

Willard wasn't sure what his questions had to do with the sketch of the young boy. He was growing impatient with John's endless queries. "No, I suppose not."

"A baby boy... born not long after her release from prison. She had no choice but to send him away. Dear god, could you imagine? The Doctor has so many enemies… and how could she let what happened to her, happen to her only son? She took him to the one place she knew he would be protected and cared for... by his own kind. She hid him away in time."

"Wait... that... that's not possible! River Song never had children!" he argued with a humorless laugh.

"Not according to public record. She couldn't afford the Silence learning of it. Her child was a Time Lord."

"You don't mean..." Willard frowned, shaking his head. "You and your stories! Cause that's all they are! The Doctor and River Song?! Certainly, there was… tension, stories of murder and marriage... but a secret baby?! Grandfather was right, you’re insane!"

John's laughter was almost manic, echoing in silent halls, stirring the darkness around them. Willard's eyes surveyed the shadows, counting them anxiously. "You came here for a story, but it's not the one you wanted. It never is. The fact is the child does indeed exist! River Song risked contaminating the timeline just to see to her son's welfare…."

"Then this is why you've come? To find her child?" Willard insisted with growing dread.

“You really think your Grandfather would urge you to escort me to the Library for something like that?! You lot… never think anything through! Your Grandfather feels responsible for River Song’s death! Despite his opinion of me, there is nothing he would not do to make up for that debt,” he scolded, coldly. Again John's eyes drifted to the book in his hands. "I already know where the child is. He did just fine, that boy. He was left on a doorstep of the Doctor long before the Tardis and his adventures... at the very beginning of his story. That boy grew up to be a man, and even found love of his own." John's smile grew gentle. "He made a life for himself, had a beautiful and daring daughter... but then his family was taken from him... lost in the Time War... left to burn, or so he thought." He caught Willard's gaze. "I'm here because the secrets of River Song never stop. That woman, that amazing woman, she was working out the greatest find in all of creation. She was planning an expedition to find Gallifrey. That little boy in her diary is me. My daughter Susan and my wife have been lost for over four hundred years... and I'm going to bring them back... all of them. I'm here to find my way home, and I plan on using my mother’s diary to get me there."

*~*~*

"You really loved her... didn't you?"

The Doctor shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. He looked so dangerously broken for a brief moment. "As much as you can love someone doomed from the very start. She was... infuriating. She was brilliant. And for a brief moment, for the briefest moment in history… she was… mine." He pushed back whatever it was eating at him, her Doctor, always running. "Gone now. No point in dwelling."

"Doctor, what if something is wrong? What if that signal is from her?"

"It can't be. We've said what needs to be said. I have to move on. She knows that."

Clara frowned; eyebrows wrinkled in confusion as she finally took a look at the screen. Life signs? Oh… OH! "Doctor... there are people in the Library. You were running a scan, it's complete. It's detecting life signs… and one of them… isn’t human."

The Doctor's eyes immediately widened. He gripped the display once more, jaw dropping. "Clara... you are brilliant... unbelievably brilliant!” He twirled around to kiss her forehead in praise before his hand gripped a lever and pulled hard. The Tardis immediately shuddered, forcing her to reach out to steady herself. “The Library... we have to go back!"

*~*~*

That sound, John had been waiting for that sound. He’d spent so many years avoiding him, hiding, waiting for time to catch up. It finally had. "Hang on to your knickers Willard... the fun's just beginning."

The moment the Tardis appeared he was inside with a confident smirk and his best poker face. Loved poker... such a brilliant game, got it going back in New Orleans in the 1800s. He'd no idea it would take off as it did. Joseph Cowell never did give him his due on that one.

"Took you long enough! For a man in a Tardis you've always been so dreadfully late!" The man who stood facing him appeared so painfully young when compared to John's mature salt and pepper hair, and the bags under his eyes. It was just a bit odd realizing this ‘boy’ had lived over a thousand years… and was most assuredly his father. John wasn't a day over eight hundred and twenty-one, himself. "And you call yourself a Time Lord... ha!"

The Doctor stared back silently for a moment while a young brunette watched on with interest. Willard seemed equally on edge. John held his father’s gaze, waiting for recognition. New face, but that was the only difference. He was the same person he'd always been. "I thought you'd been lost... with the others."

"I was lost. My daughter, my wife... gone in an instant with you to blame. What could I possibly make of that?"

"I had no choice... you must know that," the Doctor argued with quiet desperation.

John’s smile was hesitant, mixed with a tension that could only be possible among family. "You are forgiven... always and completely forgiven, father... for that, at least."

Relief, but there was still confusion in his eyes. "Why the Library? Why signal me from there?"

"So you would know without a doubt who I was... who I've been from the very beginning. Even now... funny isn't it? That word suits us well, our family." He held up his mother's diary with a devilish smile. "Spoilers."

*~*~*

"I feel like we're encroaching on a family reunion," Clara muttered to the strange man standing by the door of the Tardis. He was unusual, not quite fit, but handsome enough. The brightest blue eyes and a heavy brow made him almost impossible to ignore. "I'm Clara, by the way."

The older man snapped from his trance in an instant. "Willard Trask, of the Lutz family, heir to the family fortune. How do you do?" he greeted stiffly.

Rich and handsome? This John... he certainly kept well-off friends. "Is that really how you introduce yourself?" she questioned.

Willard blushed, laughing. "Only to ladies as bewitching as yourself."

Clara had a feeling they would be getting on famously. "Care for tea? Leave the boys to reacquaint themselves?"

Willard nodded. "Sounds absolutely fantastic... it's been a busy day...."

*~*~*

John knew it would be difficult to explain. He was leading his own father to certain doom, but the stories were clear. The fall of the eleventh was a certainty, but the twelfth... he would be the one to bring it all back. All John had to do was guide him, just as his mother had done. "Just before you took mother to Darillium... she'd been busy on dig... that's what she told you, yeah?"

"Right a dig... THE dig, had big plans, but she'd been sidetracked by the Library. She needed more funding."

The Doctor was handling their conversation as well as could be expected. Just a bit of fidgeting and fiddling with knobs. The Tardis still parked by the shadows, just near the core. They were so achingly close to her, what was left of her, but neither had the hearts to face the ghost of the woman they both loved. "She was busy, but it wasn't for a dig. She was following clues," he explained, turning the pages of River's diary to the incomplete map she'd sketched. "She was searching for Gallifrey."

His father was smiling faintly, just a twinge of pride. "Even now... always several steps ahead. She knew... somehow she knew I hadn't used The Moment."

John nodded, leaning on the railing. "She knew more than that. She knew we'd go looking eventually. My family is trapped... our family. How could resist?" He let that sink in before clearing his throat and turning the page. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted. "I'm sorry, father... I'm so very sorry. I'm about to ask the impossible of you."

The Doctor immediately stiffened, affronted. "Impossible? Ha! You are my son... a certified Pond, and the only family I have left. I'll make it possible."

He couldn't even hold his father's gaze, gripped with selfish longing and shame. "You must return to Trenzalore. She speaks of it in her diary. I believe that's where we'll find the first clue... of what happened to our home... of what became of Gallifrey."

The fidgeting stopped. No more buttons to press. Just silence... an aching silence. "John... I can't go back there. You know what's waiting for me if I go back?"

John nodded. "Your death. River knew... she kept it from you because she knew what would happen, but you can't escape it, father… no more than mother could escape her fate. Either Gallifrey forever sleeps or you face what’s to come. Your final stand."

The Doctor, John's father, so much older now. So many years filled with regret and anger. Was he asking too much? His father gave a hesitant nod, his fingers snapped and the doors closed shut. "Then I suppose it's time... my time."

"You won't be facing it alone, father." John closed the diary and dropped a hand to his father's shoulder. "It's what mother would have wanted.”

*~*~*

He’d promised himself never to peek. It was her diary, after all. It didn’t matter that their story was over, it seemed disrespectful somehow. Temptation grew hundredfold as his son handing the Doctor her diary, nodding encouragingly. The last page, a sketch of their son as a boy, and he could feel all resolve wavering. He was breaking his own rules, but who would care? Certainly not River Song… not now. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, eyes drifting to the words written under the sketch, understanding in an instant why John had given it to him.

_Hello Sweetie,_

_At this very moment, my last moments in this world, I find myself wondering how you did it. How could you stand to look at me, to love me… knowing this would be how our story ends? I’ve realized something, though, call it an epiphany… I know how much you love those. Perhaps our story doesn’t have to end. I may be gone from you, but our time together is burned in the stars. Our son shines bright… and more brilliant than anything I could ever imagine. I’m with you in spirit, content to sleep in the deepest, darkest corner of your hearts. I know my son won’t resist for long, too much like his father, that one! He’ll take his first steps in the mad blue box and never look back. Take care of him, my love. Find Gallifrey for the both of you. It’s the adventure of a lifetime. My dear Doctor and our John, look out universe… next stop, everywhere!_

_With all my love,_

_River Song_

His smile was watery at best, but as his eyes met John’s, he could almost see her eyes shining back. It didn’t seem right not to have a certified Pond on board. The Doctor closed River’s diary and reached out to send the Tardis into the vortex. “Well, in that case…” he whispered more to her than to John. He closed his eyes to see her face. He would always see her. He would always hear her. He would always listen. “I think it’s time, son. It’s time you and I returned home. Geronimo!”

John gave a supportive nod, both forgetting their poor companions spilling tea on themselves as the Tardis shuddered and jerked. Clara would, most certainly, be cross with them both later. His son gripped the console with a wide grin. “Vayamos!”

_The End_

**Author's Note:**

> Vayamos means ‘let’s go’ in Spanish. Ten had ‘Allonsy’, Eleven had ‘Geronimo’… it seemed only right that John have a word too. Also, in case you were curious... John's granddaughter is Susan (as in the Doctor's granddaughter Susan).


End file.
